Bai Chunian held him from behind, keeping as little contact with his chest as possible, and whispered near his ear, “Is this too warm?”
Lan Bo’s eyelashes fluttered, shaking his head silently.
“Because of the hurt I caused yesterday? I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You… unpredictable.” Lan Bo struggled to form the words with his tongue. “Naughty. I don’t want you anymore.”
He meant it in the way a child’s parent might playfully scold, but Bai Chunian didn’t take it that way. Holding Lan Bo’s hands without moving, he gently lifted his chin from the shoulder, his voice carrying a slight nasal tone: “Don’t say that.”
Bai Chunian remembered everything clearly from his early life. From the moment he gained self-awareness, the first omega he ever encountered was Lan Bo.
Experimental subject modification had two methods: one started from the embryo, growing from infancy to developmental phase before reaching maturity; the other captured externally and modified directly into the developmental phase. Bai Chunian belonged to the first method, Lan Bo to the second.
He met Lan Bo just as he entered the developmental phase. Researchers noticed his particular affection for Lan Bo, and since Lan Bo hadn’t shown any aggression toward him, they placed them in the same breeding enclosure for observation.
An omega exuding gentle, maternal pheromones naturally attracted a young alpha just out of infancy. Bai Chunian would cling to Lan Bo, licking his pheromone glands, cheeks, and lips, much like a cub seeking food from a lioness.
Initially, Lan Bo would grow impatient and push the clingy little alpha away. But Bai Chunian kept returning, carefully nestling into him, seeking both comfort and pheromones. Lan Bo’s nurturing instinct compelled him to accept the young alpha.
The little alpha learned to release tender calming pheromones in return, growing increasingly dependent on Lan Bo.
Researchers were pleased: the usually temperamental, proud omega was willing to soothe another alpha. This suggested the possibility of a successful pairing and future offspring superior to previous generations.
Under Lan Bo’s calming pheromones, Bai Chunian’s growth exceeded all expectations. He quickly awakened his J1 ability, stirring excitement throughout the research facility. Despite severe injuries, his developmental age combined with J1-level power made him capable of challenging M2-level mature subjects—a future full of potential.
Researchers also noted that Lan Bo’s pheromones were exceptionally potent. While ordinary omega pheromones were like sugar water—restorative and mood-lifting—Lan Bo’s were like the finest, nutrient-rich honey, hundreds of times more potent.
Yet he refused to release these pheromones to any other alpha.
Repeated observations confirmed the distinction: Bai Chunian behaved extremely obediently in Lan Bo’s presence. His devotion and dependence were total. Outside the enclosure, his autonomy and unpredictability were evident, but with Lan Bo, he was like a small cat beside a big feline—cuddling, licking, or resting quietly.
When researchers once caught them mating, with Bai Chunian taking the lead, panic ensued—they feared he might be killed.
But Lan Bo tolerated the overstep. The conclusion: a dominant individual indulging a beloved juvenile.
Later, they speculated: now with self-awareness, Bai Chunian treated Lan Bo as the “child” in a rare form of reverse nurturing—a phenomenon uncommon among experimental subjects. Only a self-aware subject could regard a smaller, unself-aware one as adorably helpless, like humans with small animals.
Attempts to place Lan Bo with other alpha subjects ended in brutal violence. He wouldn’t allow subordination, disrespectful touching, shouting, wandering eyes, or taking food without consent. Occasionally, he even commanded others to kneel and kiss the tip of his tail.
The experimental subjects found it nearly impossible not to anger this “princess”; a single misstep could earn them a beating.
“Really don’t want me anymore?”
“En.” Lan Bo turned his back and stayed silent.
Bai Chunian loosened his grip on Lan Bo’s hand. The arousal-soothing agent on the IV stand had finished dripping. He yanked out the IV, slipped on his shoes, and opened the door to leave.
Lan Bo froze for a moment at the sound of the closing door, then, fuming, finished the entire lunch box.
Bai Chunian’s hand was still covered in bandages as he wandered the corridor, aimlessly pacing until he unconsciously went downstairs. Looking up, he saw the president’s office door ajar, with faint sounds of kissing spilling out.
He had meant to leave, but the occupants noticed him and called him in.
Inside, the air was thick with high-grade omega calming pheromones, sweet and pervasive, instantly relaxing his body.
The president sat properly behind the desk, while Lu Shangjin lounged on the sofa flipping through a magazine. Bai Chunian thought he must have misheard. In any case, he wasn’t in the mood to gossip about the president’s private life and sulked into a single-seater sofa.
If Lan Bo didn’t want him, the only ones left in the world who cared were the president and Uncle Jin. Although their connection was purely hierarchical, perhaps because they had “rescued” him, there was always a subtle sense of belonging with them.
He liked receiving the approving glance from the president after completing a mission, and he enjoyed learning from Uncle Jin how to deal with cunning, shrewd merchants. He had never thought of leaving, never realized he was someone who clung to a sense of home—because he never had one before.
Lu Shangjin looked up from his magazine. “Why the long face so early in the morning?”
Yan Yi, sorting mission files nearby, answered for him: “He argued with Lan Bo yesterday. Little guys get extra sensitive during mating season.”
Bai Chunian buried his head in the pillow. “Not an argument—it was a fight. He hit me.”
Lu Shangjin closed the magazine and chuckled. “That’s normal. Why bother? Just pick him up and kiss him until he can’t breathe.”
“Cough… don’t teach him useless tricks,” Yan Yi shot him a glance, then asked Bai Chunian, “Why does he only hit you and not anyone else?”
Bai Chunian lifted his head. “Then why does he only hit me and not others? I’m not going home tonight.”
Lu Shangjin ruffled his hair. “You brat. Come drink with me tonight. A few old friends from PBB will be there. Time to make some connections—can’t do business without people.”
“Oh, okay… I won’t drive tonight.” Facing Uncle Jin, Bai Chunian felt a little guilty. He had planned to try recruiting Jin’s own son as a spy and wanted a chance to feel out his reaction. After all, the wool always comes from the sheep; it wasn’t like he was truly betraying them.
Yan Yi received an email from the tech department: the swapped AC serum had been injected into the experimental subject. Equipment was being adjusted to analyze, and the cargo ship carrying the subject had passed customs without any indication of its next move.
“Call me if you need me. I’m fine.” Bai Chunian sat up, rubbed his face, and tried to energize himself. The higher the grade of the gland, the harder it was to suppress arousal. Stronger suppressant doses caused more pain, but Professor Zhong’s arousal-soothing agent was gentle, effective even for high-grade glands, and pain-free unlike concentrated injections.
“You should rest first. Handle your own matters.” Yan Yi sent two encrypted emails, assigning the spy team to track the subjects on the cargo ship.
“Ah, my little darling’s birthday is coming up. What should I get him?” Lu Shangjin flipped the magazine so hard his fingers hurt. “Last year I gave him a gemstone mine. He didn’t seem to like it.”
Yan Yi’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “What kind of crap do you even give him?”
“Still, little alphas are easy—cars, watches, all simple.”
Bai Chunian glanced at the mechanical watch on his wrist. At first, he didn’t understand human luxuries, but over time he got used to them. This watch alone was worth over a hundred thousand.
He didn’t know his exact birthday, so he marked it as the day he arrived at the president and Uncle Jin’s home. The first time he tasted cream cake—a food full of sugar, fat, cholesterol, and no nutritional value—he loved it anyway. It was a warm, comforting treat.
That evening at the banquet, Bai Chunian politely shielded Lu Shangjin from alcohol. Some of Lu Shangjin’s acquaintances privately praised the boy as capable and reliable. The friends were influential people, not easy to get acquainted with even with money. Bai Chunian had made a real impression.
Midway through, he went to the bathroom. When worried, he tended to drink more, and though he tried to control himself, he felt a little unsteady, leaning against the wall in a daze.
His head felt foggy. He fished out his phone from his pocket, fingers uncooperative, and absently stared at his lock screen.
Lan Bo hadn’t called or sent a single message.
Bai Chunian hugged the phone, sitting there, screen dimmed then lit again, unsure what he was waiting for.
Outside the hotel dome, an unknown creature clung to the lightning rod. Lan Bo climbed down, checking each floor.
Finally, on the seventh floor, he found the poor alpha asleep outside the bathroom door.
Lan Bo crawled along the ceiling to hover above him, drained a bit of power, and let himself drop to the floor, gently patting the alpha’s face to wake him.
Bai Chunian muttered groggily, “My lifelong wife doesn’t want me anymore.”
The alpha reeked of smoke and alcohol, a stark contrast to his own pheromones. Lan Bo bent over to pick him up, but his heat from the alcohol made Lan Bo shrink his fingers.
An alpha appeared from the corner. Lu Shangjin, noticing Bai Chunian hadn’t returned for a while, came out to check during his own bathroom break.
Rounding the corridor, he saw Lan Bo struggling to lift the taller alpha, whose pale skin was flushed from the heat.
“What’s going on here?” Lu Shangjin asked, watching them.
Lan Bo had finally managed to lift the alpha, struggling to hold him close. Seeing Lu Shangjin taking Bai Chunian out drinking as if nothing had happened, he frowned in dissatisfaction. “hbdhysbhacjtfhjfchjxbsadhhahloofifxf”—an unintelligible string of words that made no sense.
Then, he swiftly led Bai Chunian out through the window.
Lu Shangjin had drunk quite a bit himself, so his mind was slow. After a moment, he realized:
“Huh? He criticized me?”